The mist that began creeping out of the forest has begun to makes it way out onto the grounds. It brought with it something of a cold chill though this was as likely a result of the dreary January weather.

The mist is wispy on the fringes but thick if one were to make their way into it.

So thick that you wouldn't be able to make out right from left. So thick that you can't see anything beyond it.

Charging forth from the forest, the centaur colony moved with unprecedented urgency. The stars had been wrong. The stars had revealed that there was still time. The stars had not foretold such terrors. Perhaps their sage had spoiled and its smoke tampered with?

His flank the color of midnight, the centaur Piritrius approached the stump and gave a look of great disdain at the farm bell. This was what Thereos had submitted himself to? To be summoned like cattle?

"There is no time, Piritrius," insisted another with a coat as warm as a rising sun. "We must leave."

"I must warn him. He is of our own," Piritrius sneered back, swallowing a bit of his pride as he rang the bell in violent frustration. "THEREOS!"

A cornucopia, if you will, of things summoned Thereos to his stump. Of course there was the ringing of his bell, which sparked a bout of reluctant joy in his heart that a Hogwarts student had finally decided to pay him a visit to discuss matters of divination through the natural world, but there was something else as well. Something unsettling in the way the smoke rose from his sage that morning, wafting with a sourness into his nostrils.

But mostly, it was the ringing of the bell.

Appearing seemingly out of nowhere, the centaur was surprised to see his colony assembled around his stump.

"Piritrius," he greeted, one of his tree trunk like arms banging against his chest in greeting. "What winds have gathered you all he----"

And then he heard a great shriek, a sound belonging to that of a human girl, coming from somewhere along the lake.

"Have the rings of Saturn fallen?"

The human's cries only set the colony more on edge and soon a majority broke off to escort the younglings away to safety. Piritrius remained steadfast, his dark brown eyes locked on his friend's and boring into his soul.

"Do not do it, Thereos. Leave the girl," he warned gravely. "You must leave with us. Great terrors rest in the mist and certain doom to those who enter it. You must leave." And the centaur extended his arm to his companion. "Come, Thereos. Come."

The screaming persisted, Blood Moon on the rise, and Thereos felt the strings of fate divide down two very different paths. One was presently guiding his arm to reach out and grasp his companions arm, palm to the bend in the other's and fingers coiling around at the elbow, with the intention of joining his colony in their retreat. But then the trumpets sounded, his sharp centaur eyes witnessed the mist slowly creeping across the Hogwarts' grounds, and he met Piritrius gaze solemnly. "Keep the colony safe, Piritrius. We will meet again."

And with one final firm squeeze of his kinsmen's arm, Thereos let go and began galloping in the direction of the screaming.

The disappointment was prominent on Piritrius' brow as he watched Thereos gallop away in the opposite direction. "Cretin of a centaur," he spat under his breath in frustration. Feeling his wife's steady hand upon his shoulder, Piritrius knew there was nothing left to be done here and that their only option was to flee these grounds. Impossible to believe that the acromantula colony had had more foresight than themselves to do so.

Reigning up on his rear legs, Piritrius swung his muscular form around and took off with his wife and galloped with all their might to catch up with the rest. These lands would fall and they would not be present to witness it.

May we meet again, Thereos.